


The Hazards of Comfort

by laEsmeralda



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laEsmeralda/pseuds/laEsmeralda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas buys Harry a new bed in which Harry actually fits.  It isn't quite the generous gesture it might appear to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hazards of Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story involves sibling-slash, or half-sibling-slash, which you already know if you know the Files. For those of you who don't, I thought I should mention it.

Someone was in bed next to me… it could have been Mouse… except only when he was a puppy… and except that a human hand, a feminine hand, was stroking my stomach. 

My body thrummed with desperate need. A sensation lingered that the stroking might not have been isolated to my stomach before I became aware of it. It occurred to me that there was currently only one candidate.

I wasn’t much for the waking all the way up yet, but I tried hard and half-woke from dreamspace.

“Lasciel,” I mumbled with a sleepy mouth. 

“Yes, my host.”

“Dammit.” Letting her out of the cage and manacles, even with safeguards, hadn’t yet led to dire consequences, but she did push the boundaries. The idea that even sleep wasn’t safe rankled me.

“You are displeased.”

“You’re violating my… something.”

She spirit-sighed. “You are unwise in this abstinence on which you insist,” she said in her intriguing voice. “Going for years without congress is a vulnerability. You are blocking valuable energy.”

“I get release,” I replied flatly.

“That is not what I said. Do not use _technicalities_ with me.”

“If you are only in my mind, congress--as you so gracefully put it--with you wouldn’t be real.”

She paused. “You might be correct. Then again, if your mind and senses fully engage with me, perhaps it will be enough to restore the proper flow of your energy.”

I didn’t respond. Her hand slid lower and I didn’t grab her wrist. It wasn’t really there to grab. She squeezed, gently, and I had to bite my lip. It felt real. In some distant part of my mind, I wondered if it was my own hand. Didn’t feel like my own hand. I was pretty sure I had two handfuls of sheet. 

“You kissed me once. Was it so unsatisfying?”

I didn’t have to speak, my cock gave an answering twitch.

“Kiss me again. See how real it feels.” 

She was right about one thing. The lack of touch and sexual connection led to distractions. Temptations. Like this one. Hell. I rolled toward her, touched her illusionary hair, soft and curling, and somehow, unerring in the dark, brought my mouth to hers. 

The beginning of the kiss was exquisitely sweet as though she herself were just waking up, an innocent sleeper, not a plotting Fallen. I shifted closer. Her tongue slipped along mine as she deepened the kiss. She tasted good. Her breath rushed past my face, audible in its urgency. Her fingers brushed my cheek. Then, a hand grabbed my shoulder hard. Not a woman’s touch. I startled back.

“Harry?”

I crabbed away from Thomas and fell off the bed. I didn’t stop scrambling until I was in the living room, my back pressed safely to a brick wall, heart hammering. I thought I heard a woman’s frustrated whisper fade away. Mouse woofed softly as he heaved himself up from the kitchen rug and clicked across the hardwood to lean against my legs. His tail wagged, trying for reassurance, no doubt. Poor dog, too often dealing with my bad dreams.

I shut my eyes. Broke it down. Thomas had bought me a bigger bed. A queen-sized bed to be exact. He had an ulterior motive, of course—more yardage on which to bang his dates. But it got me a bigger bed. If I slept a little diagonally, all of me fit in bed for a change. We’d been bunking together for two weeks because I couldn’t return the kindness by still making him sleep on the threadbare couch. It was like being kids again.

And I had just assaulted him. God. I made sure I was awake. Dreadfully, I was, no sweet relief of waking from a dream.

The hallway doorjamb creaked. I didn’t open my eyes. I could feel my face flushing hot, my stomach gone cold.

“You okay? Harry, look at me. I’m okay.”

Mouse plopped into a seated position and thumped his tail on the floor, confirming Thomas’ sincerity. I forced myself to do as Thomas asked. 

He was apparently more than just okay. Standing in pajama bottoms, with a faint sheen of sweat across his shoulders, my half-brother looked more well than he had in days. The investigative type in me noted the fact and began composing interview questions.

Thomas spoke first. “Putting aside the obvious factors that are freaking you out right now…”

I interrupted him. “You’re not freaked out?”

Thomas chuckled lightly. It wasn’t rude or dismissive, just amused. He shrugged. “Incubus.” He gestured offhandedly to a lingering distortion of his pajama bottoms that I had carefully avoided noticing. 

I actually spluttered. 

“What happened?” He sounded so calm.

“Lash. I thought you were her.”

“I’ve heard of coming to terms with one’s demons, but making out with them?”

“She’s pretty persuasive, especially when I’m not fully conscious.” I rubbed a hand over my stubbly face. “Convinced me that I’m weak and vulnerable without _congress_ as she put it.”

Thomas frowned. “You probably are. How long has it been?”

My turn to shrug.

“More than thirteen months?”

“So what. I don’t need it to live.”

“Fair enough, you don’t need it to survive, like I do, but you still need it. What’s different about me right now? Be a rational observer.”

The investigator examined him. “You look fed.”

Thomas nodded. “You know I’m constantly running a deficit. A kiss, even a good one, is usually a mere sip. That was a full meal. You’re like… a sexual energy bank.” 

“And that’s bad? You make it sound bad.”

“Your magic doesn’t draw from sex like mine does. It comes from clarity. Notice how the two rarely mix?”

Hm. Made sense. And then the reality of what I’d done hit me again and I pushed back harder into the wall to remain standing. “I’m so sorry. Horrified. Really, I don’t know what else to say.”

Thomas smiled ever so faintly, his eyes veiling in that manner both beguiling and fateful for his prey. “Our relationship is important to me. Very important to me. So I hesitate to say this but I’m going to for your own damn good and for the sake of honesty. I _enjoyed_ that kiss. Not just for the replenishment it afforded me either. I feel no shame about it whatsoever.”

I must have reacted with my droll look because Thomas made an exasperated noise. I didn’t say anything.

“I can only imagine that as a non-incubus you have a number of sexual hangups that don’t affect my kind. In your case, one of them is that on general principle you don’t _do_ guys.” He flicked a dismissive gesture at me. “You probably feel repulsed by the very concept.”

“Now wait just a minute. I’m not a bigot.”

“This isn’t a political discussion,” Thomas replied, impatiently. “You were fairly horrified when Butters thought we were together.”

“You’re my brother. Not just some guy.”

An eyebrow crooked. “Oh, so if I weren’t half-blood to you, you’d have been down with Butters thinking we’re lovers, eh?” 

He had a point. I hated that he had a point. And he chose that moment to press his point. Thomas walked over to me, into my personal space. And stood there. 

I managed to breathe evenly. Thomas is without a doubt one of the more irresistible beings I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something. His sexual charisma is like a leopard’s purr, the sweet lull of a dangerous predator meant to throw you off guard. I’m not entirely immune, but I understand what it is, which makes it far less effective on me than on typical mortals. Thomas wasn’t really trying to have an effect at that moment, he was just intent on pushing my psychological buttons. 

All that said, I’d kissed him with abandon just a few minutes before. True, I hadn’t known it was him. True, I’m not into guys. But it had felt so damn good. My lost hard on fleshed out again at just the fleeting recollection. And that mouth was now mere inches below mine, being all smart and sarcastic. I took a moment to ponder what it must be like for Thomas to be this hungry nearly all the time. 

“You’re hot through and through,” Thomas murmured, very close to my chin, his eyes half-lidded and fixed somewhere past me. “And when a being is that desirable and is exercising free will, I don’t care what it is. But you weren’t exercising free will.”

“I am now,” I heard myself say, and I leaned down just enough to meet him on the way up if he responded. He did. Again, it felt incredible. Impossibly good. Possibly a result of near sexual starvation, but that would be shorting Thomas on credit. I think I didn’t imagine the glow that arose for a few seconds, the scent of extra ozone. 

He’s tall. I’m a little bigger. Women are sized quite differently from us guys, which is why you can imagine lifting a woman up and onto your cock—not that I’ve ever achieved that move. This body-to-body impact felt like clash of the titans or something. Muscular and weird. Pushing and shoving and pulling to get closer. And then, Thomas’ groin ground into my thigh, making sure I couldn’t ignore that very clear difference. By now, he was gasping and moaning, biting at my lips and throat in a euphoria of supernatural feeding. The investigator wondered, absently, if he could store up what I was giving him. Then his hands went down my sweats and I quit caring where the power was going.

Maybe it was the couple of years without someone else’s grip, or maybe Thomas has more than just glamours working for him in bed, but I came in about thirty seconds. Thomas shuddered like it was _his_ release. He didn’t give me any time to react afterwards, just grabbed my arm and hauled me back down the hallway. I didn’t fight him. 

My erection hadn’t subsided much. Again with the starvation. Sometimes I could whack off twice in a row if I played my cards right. Come to think of it, self-service had been somewhat limited in the past few weeks.

Amazingly, I still didn’t fight him when he stripped off both our half-clothing and shoved me back on the bed. I didn’t feel any fear or revulsion. I watched his oh-so-familiar face intent on his tasks, sweat starting to dampen his hair, and knew what he was about to do. I shifted my thighs apart without thinking, and froze, shocked at my own response. He paused then. I saw him make an effort to reduce the glamour, his shimmering power receding behind shields. It didn’t make any difference to me. I shook my head at him. “It isn’t that,” I said hoarsely. 

“We both know this isn’t your thing,” he said quietly. “No one goes from not fantasizing about other men to eager acceptance at one go. Where’s Lasciel right now?” His brows drew together. 

Shutting my eyes, I checked in. She was nowhere to be found. Even the sound of her own name didn’t call her. All I could feel was impatience, familiar sexual frustration, and my own swirling magic pushing me to go for it. “She isn’t here. It isn’t your responsibility. Apparently, I need what you’re dishing out tonight. Maybe just this once. Can you handle that?” 

His only answer was the change in his eyes from concern to hunger, gray to silver in a moment. He bent then and sucked me until I lifted my hips off the bed to stay deep in his mouth. No offense to those who made considerable efforts over the years, but this was nothing like any blowjob I’d ever had. His tongue swept around and behind my balls, wrapped and swirled over my cock, and then I warned him, “Stop! I’m gonna….” and he very much did not stop. I grabbed his head and poured out what I had to give. 

Thomas crawled back up my body and kissed me, nasty-wet with my taste. Hey, I’m a guy, I knew by age twelve what I tasted like. I held the back of his neck hard with one hand while I reached down to grab his cock. This was no time not to return favors. I almost yelped. My hard-ons are dry. His was slick and dripping, weird at first, but perfect for sliding back and forth in my hand as it turns out. He hadn’t broken the kiss and Thomas’ tongue wrapped around mine as I stroked him. He nudged my knees apart. As he thrust into my hand, his hand went back to my cock. Instead of being sore, it jumped at his touch. “Hell’s Promises,” he growled at me, “you have stamina. Talk to me, Harry, I need to know that you’re in there.”

“I want more. Give me more. Take more.”

“Fuck. I’m taking so much already I’m afraid for you.”

“I’m not.”

“I want to use a glamour,” he said, “just for the first minute or so. You have to let your shields down or it won’t work.”

I’m not an idiot. I had gotten a good look at what was in store for me. The thought again brought a jolt and a pang. “Yeah,” I answered. I made a conscious effort to let him into my mind. Different than the soulgaze we had already shared, this was being willing to let him harm me if he chose and trusting that he wouldn’t.

The next moment, he seemed achingly beautiful. I’d always admired his looks, enviously. This feeling was like falling in love in one sweet crash. It swelled my heart and lodged there like a craving. Like new lovers who don’t sleep much for days. Thomas backed away from my greedy hand. He grabbed his own cock, ruddy and intimidating, and angled it down from his body. I didn’t feel anything but pressure as he went in, and that was a little disappointing given how much I wanted to go higher.

“Let me feel it.”

“Not yet, you’ve gotta relax first.”

“But—“

“It’s like being knifed, don’t argue with me.”

His arms came down on either side of my chest and he started fucking me. Surreal. He was gone somewhere else, feeling the amazing sensations of being buried to the balls in heat-radiating tightness. And then he was back. His eyes opened, wonderful lightened-gray eyes and a gaze that I trusted. He whispered something to me and I felt him in me. Yikes.

“God, I want you,” Thomas said. “I would never have said so. Never asked.” 

There was no ready quip for that one. He had withdrawn his vampire tricks and he was still something to behold. I realized that although I’m four or five levels down in the good looks and muscles department, this is close to what my bedmates had seen. And it was hot. I would have to thank him later for the narcissistic boost. There was still no way I could acknowledge what he had just said. “Why doesn’t this hurt worse?” I asked. In fact, it felt extraordinarily good with a hint of pain in the far background. But I didn’t say so.

He smiled wryly. “Our secretions contain a magical equivalent of narcotics. Helps with the biting for the blood feeders. Helps incubi prevent sexual discomforts. A mortal might achieve the same effect by spreading cocaine on his cock before fucking someone. Of course, that would have unwanted side effects.” Gently, he took my dick in hand and rolled his fingers over it. I groaned. Slowly, slowly, he stroked and I started to anticipate another peak off in the distance. “You haven’t had true climax until you’ve had one with someone inside you,” he murmured, and started to move in and out of me. 

I slid a hand to his ass. Really, by now, could I have any limits left? His muscles were working, fueling the thrusts. “You know this firsthand?” I had a helluva sweat going through the burn and the stretch, even with the _secretions._

“I love to receive,” he replied. “Tonight, I need to close the loop back to you. I’ve taken monster amounts of your energy whether you miss it or not. I’m going to give you some of mine.” His smile indicating that it wasn’t a wholly altruistic endeavor, he sped up. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing I can’t bear.”

“I want you to love it, not bear it.” He shifted. The background discomfort didn’t go away, but an irresistible pang started that wanted fucking. Friction, thrusting, and a lot of it. It grew. Thomas didn’t disappoint. I squirmed under him and he cried out, hanging his head as he really put his hips into it, keeping a completely separate rhythm from his hand. I was pretty sure a heart attack was imminent, and I had a fleeting thought of Butters doing my post-mortem and cursing me for feeling like I had to lie to him about the important things in my life. Like having my ass pounded by a supernatural, supermodel blood-relation. But it was fleeting. The man fucking me had talent. 

“Let go, now, feel it all,” Thomas urged.

I obliged. It emptied and filled me simultaneously. Out with the old, in with the new. As I clamped down on him, that intensified everything. The shooting waves made me howl. 

Thomas strained into me and shock went back up through my body, sharp, silvery power hitting my heart and dispersing through every artery and capillary in a blinding shower.

An indeterminate number of minutes later, I managed to ask him, “What was that?” 

“I put a couple of decades back on your life,” he mumbled, face down in a pillow. 

“Oh. Wow.” That in addition to three unbelievable orgasms. I felt better than I had in years. Wrung out. In a fantastic way.

“Of course, I might have taken ten or so off first.” Thomas turned his face toward me. I really couldn’t see him under all that hair, but I knew he was looking at me. “That was truly excellent. Are you freaking out about it?”

“Not yet.” A dedicated hockey player could play baseball too. Why not?

“I won’t need to feed for a good long time. Although I might want to.” He paused for a long moment. “With you.”

I thought about it. “Are we breaking any magical Laws?”

“Not that I know of. Ask Bob.”

I snorted. “Cold day in hell.”

“And although I’m your elder brother, I’ve never had any role of power with you in your life, no coercion, anything like that.”

“You mean I’m not traumatized,” I chuckled. 

“Oh, you’re traumatized, but I had nothing to do with that,” he laughed back. 

“He’s delicious,” Lasciel suddenly said from somewhere in the back of my mind. “I doubt you’ll thank me, my host, but the silver sweetness was its own reward.”

“It seems that my hitchhiker thinks you’re tasty,” I said aloud. “Should we worry?”

“Hm. What’s good for you is good for her. Another indication that she might be a symbiotic creature and not a parasite.”

“Let’s hope.”

“Thank her for me,” Thomas said in a low tone that made me shiver. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

I groaned. “Just because I might have just had the best sex of my life doesn’t make this right.”

“What a lovely compliment.” 

“I can’t think anymore tonight, I’m a mere human. I gotta go back to sleep.”

“Of course.” He sounded halfway there himself.

“But if tomorrow turns out to be a quiet Sunday, I’d like to try what you love.” It was difficult, as it turned out, to say out loud. My voice sounded unnaturally small and meek.

“I won’t hold you to it.” Thomas suddenly sounded fully awake. “But if you find you still feel that way tomorrow, it would give me joy.”

It was such a formal and delicate way of putting it that I was touched. I reached out and bumped his shoulder just like I would any other time, just before I fell asleep.  
*******


End file.
